The stars of Georgia
by Little Wo
Summary: The crew of the Enterprise celebrates the end of their mission in Georgia. Spock seems sad to McCoy, which results in a quiet walk along the shore, just for the two of them; "and only the stars of Georgia will keep their secret". P.S.: if your ashayam does not kiss you, you can still write about kissing, lol.


Spock was sad.

Bones wouldn't have believed that, had anyone told him. Strange as it was, he saw it with his own eyes, while others seemed to pay it no mind, captivated by the feeling of earth under their feet – after an indeed five year mission – and devouring the supply of food and drinks.

Vulcans were bad at feelings and had no emotions; still, the doctor could bet his bones Spock was sick at heart. "...At soul? At brains? At gallbladder?" He frowned, trying to summon sarcasm against the sudden sympathy to the lonely figure that walked away evening after evening from the joyful company seated around a fire. Leonard was sure the meditations were not quite the case, or not the case at all.

One night he, too, stood up and went away into darkness. The footprints on the sand could not mislead him, as well as the very path to the ocean, and he knew Spock had left for there.

...

Bones, like any outworlder, knew little about the Vulcans' meditation, though he did have the impression that even a Vulcan could not meditate standing straight up, with their hands folded behind their back, and especially standing right on the surf line, cold waves sweeping over their bare feet every now and then. On the other hand, it was really quiet here, so quiet that he stopped within some ten steps away, not daring to disturb the other with the rustling sound of stepping on sand. McCoy didn't want to look like he was being too curious or spying.

After considering whether to leave or not for some time, he decided to stay. The shore was big, after all, surely enough for the two of them.

"There are no oceans on Vulcan."

Spock seemed to have said it to the ocean itself. Bones didn't know the ocean's opinion on it but suddenly felt some light sadness, too, as if the same gust of wind wrapped around them, a gust of fresh breeze that, as he had just learned, does not occur on Vulcan.

Spock turned – away from Bones, not to him, and stepped carefully on the curved line of foam left by the last wave. A new one, rustling as the sand under their feet, came to touch the Vulcan's skin again. He took another step. Well, it was logical for Spock to go away since he noticed other person's presence (he hadn't really been talking to the ocean, had he?) when he wanted to be alone for this or that reason...

Yet he stopped after the second step and stretched his arm back slowly. Once more not turning, not hesitating, and who knew why at all.

Bones must have been still for half a minute before he walked over with slow rustling steps and took the outstretched hand. Spock intertwined their fingers leisurely and went on with his silent even walking. McCoy just walked by for some time, and then decided to trace the surf line, too. As expected, Spock did not make an extra move, his gaze always perfectly straight, but placed his other hand behind his back as well and took Bones' hand into both his ones, squeezing it tenderly. A tender Vulcan, though? It must have been just "gently" to him.

Quite soon Leonard gave up counting steps. Spock and he almost kept pace; he stepped into the former's footprint from time to time; and the whole thing would seem quite meditative, at least to an Earthling. Even the thoughts were blown away from his head, replaced by the light wind and rustle of waves.

...

Well, "you're sure to get somewhere if you walk long enough". Spock stopped next to a sandy hillock and looked at Bones for the first time. They sat down, still holding hands for some reason. Something stirred in the doctor's memory, and he said, hoping that a hint would be enough:

"Vulcans have very sensitive hands, don't they?"

Suddenly, he realized he had said that in whispers. And indeed, louder sounds would be out of place in this place of peace and quiet. Spock nodded, back to not looking at him. It appeared he was not going to explicate.

"And what does a hand touch mean? It seems to me there's something intimate about it; it's almost like a kiss or something."

Three soft inhalations fitted into the pause, and then the Vulcan parted his lips at last. He whispered, too:

"One can hold other person's hand for many reasons, so Vulcans do not consider that to be greatly important. Holding tight is more meaningful. A gesture approximately corresponding to a kiss looks like this." He freed his hand carefully, straightened his forefinger and middle finger and pressed his thumb a little against his ring finger and little finger, which remained bent.

His hand was lying on the sand carelessly, not a muscle was trembling. Saying something else or even looking away from the horizon didn't seem to be his intention. As though Bones reserved the right of answering the... gesture or ignoring it all.

When the doctor, though not quite understanding what it should lead to, formed his hand the same way and touched the other's fingertips with his, Spock still didn't say a word, neither he stirred or sighed; he closed his eyes. And then it occurred to Bones that the Vulcan looked sad no more, just calm and at peace, like everything around them.

"So, should a Vulcan be here, they'd think we're kissing?"

Spock opened his eyes and stared:

"You need _another_ Vulcan? To rephrase my words or to kiss me?"

McCoy chuckled; his words must have been really stupid.

"I don't. One is perfectly enough for me."

He hardly noticed himself leaning in and kissing the Vulcan the Earth way. And once more. The sound of other person's breath melted into the sounds of surrounding things, and the touch of their lips was no harder than the touch of their finger pads. That was barely something to notice.

A hundred years, beautiful with a hundred of kisses, could have passed by before he whispered into another man's lips:

"Even if there are no oceans on Vulcan... You are half Earthling, too. And if you need any, you'll always have them be here for you. And not only them." In the dark of the night, with stars alone for company, it even sounded sensible.

And after a thousand years more he said somewhere to the ocean that reflected the Milky Way:

"If you listen long enough, you can hear the waves talking."

Apparently, McCoy took a big risk of being answered with a lecture on auditory hallucinations and disadvantages of looking for sense somewhere where there is none. But he was lucky.

"I shall agree. I cannot think of a similar word from any of the Earth languages, but it is not the first time this evening that I think of a Vulcan word that sounds alike."

The word sounded alike indeed, but that was all McCoy could understand.

"What?"

" _Ashayam._ " It was so soft, like a breath touching another person's lips.

"What does it mean?"

The ocean rustled; the other man's breath rustled, too; there was no answer. Spock took his hand away and began to draw something on the sand. The circles and curves formed a perfect line, and, if Leonard's memory did not fail him, they could be Vulcan letters.

"What's this?"

" _Ashayam._ "

Again. Rustle of sand against fingers. Spock took Leonard by elbow and formed what could be the same contour on his forearm. Then, he touched Leonard's cheek with his fingertips – luckily, his inspiration of a calligrapher had run out by the moment – and exhaled into his lips...

" _A-sha-yam..._ "

" _Ashayam_ ", the doctor repeated in an uncertain tone. Judging by the kiss that followed, he'd managed it.

He took the Vulcan by arm, too, but did not try to draw on it. Instead, he landed some kisses on the other's fingertips, short and light as the syllables of the unknown word. Then, their hands formed a Vulcan kiss again, almost on their own.

McCoy smiled:

"I think I see the advantage of this gesture. It can last for a really long time."

Spock nodded. "And it does not interfere with the normal processes of respiration".

 _That's the most romantic thing I've ever heard,_ McCoy thought, rolling his eyes in his mind. But he neither did that physically nor expressed his remark because... why to do such a thing?

"What do you feel when you do that?" He touched Spock's hand with his free hand.

"The partner's heartbeat..."

Someone's heart fluttered at the word "partner".

"...Their mood in general. Their body temperature. I must admit that you are freezing, Doctor. We should better go back."

They rose, not immediately at all, and headed back. With your eyes closed, it was easy to imagine there was no "back" at all, that the only things that existed were the endless night beach and the wavy Milky Way with a reflection of the ocean in it. The sand and the wind breathed; their fingers touched tenderly, exchanging pulses; their lips met again and again, and the mixed breath from both of them sounded like the strange Vulcan word.

Spock stopped probably at the very place where McCoy had found him previously.

"I shall return after my meditation."

Stars reflected in his eyes.

McCoy turned to go back into the world of humans that seemed immeasurably distant now, but didn't.

"What does "ashayam" mean?"

Maybe Spock's expression meant a Vulcan smile. McCoy sighed:

"Alright. But is it, at least, not a curse word?"

Spock raised his eyebrow:

"Vulcans don't curse."

The air rustled between their lips again.

"It's a good word, _ashayam._ "

...

Leonard couldn't understand whether a long or short time had passed. Anyway, it was enough for Jim to finish the julep, and now he insisted that "everybody" was about to go look for them, "maybe aliens abducted you or something". The doctor promised that after drinking that hard Jim wouldn't be able to look for his own conscience, and went to sleep sighing, since the rest of the company didn't really have any other ideas, neither.


End file.
